


Five Terrible Endings to this Sob Story

by Fresh_Fandom_hell



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, I want to sleep, M/M, One More Time, end me please, i'm gonna shoot myself into the sun, i've had to write these tags like 8 times, if i have to retype this shit, kajsnf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 04:53:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9162850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fresh_Fandom_hell/pseuds/Fresh_Fandom_hell
Summary: Ahh! I loved being able to be apart of this Big bang, and my amazing partner barghuest made a beautiful piece of art!! You should swing by their blog sometime!!http://barghuest.tumblr.com/





	1. You've found me

It was quiet, and as much as Jack Morrison hated to be cliche, it was far too quiet. The room was dark as pitch, and even with his enhanced sight, all he could see were soft outlines of dark grays and blacks. Without the drugs meant to do maintenance on the enhancements in his system, they'd dulled considerably. He made a mental note to find some as he fought with the tiny desk lamp. It flickered and with a soft snick, the bulb burnt out. 

He cursed, teeth clenching as he was plunged into total darkness. He cursed his luck and he cursed a few other choice names as he felt around for some sort of penlight. He only succeed in knocking something to the floor, probably the visor. Damn thing, damn good shot of a masked fuck. A heavy spread of pellets had scored and shattered the actual visor itself, never one for small, dainty things and his attempts to fix it have been futile. He'd have to wait till Morning when he had sunlight to see with, the damn lamp had been the last thing he had left. 

He sighed, standing and running a hand through mussed, sweaty white hair. Damn this heat, damn the stupid electronics failing him. He moved slowly, completely blind now as he searched for the shitty cot he'd found earlier in the day. More than once did he slam his shins into something, hissing and cursing with each loud crack. Even with the metal grieves, it was still a nuisance. Something hissed in the darkness, Morrison went ridged, pistol in hand before he even had a chance to think. At least he still had his reflexes to count on. 

Something cold slid along his spine, he jerked forwards and nearly landed on the ground when he slammed headlong into a stack of crates. Who ever was here could see a hell of a lot better then he could. He whipped around, hoping to cover his blunder by pointing the pistol in front of him. A loud chuckle rose up, a sharp rasp to his left. He twisted, following it. 

"Oh Morrison, so blind without your little toy." A grating voice, dark and metallic hissed nearly right next to his ear. He whipped around with a yelp, eyes widening when the pistol was twisted from his fingers and tossed, clattering off into the darkness. He reached after it, eyes straining to see as a firm hand spun him around like a top. Icy cold, steel talons bit into his jawline, he could feel the cold presence of his assailant clawing at him and at his soul. Literally. 

He swung blindly, fist clipping the edge of the mask and would have sent it flying has he hit just a tad higher. he knew what was behind that mask, and it damn sure didn't scare him anymore. A sharp hum left the leather decked maniac, lifting up on his face with a hiss. His feet came off the ground, a pained cry coiling from his throat. He couldn't speak, jaw locked shut as he was lifted higher and higher. His hands came up, hands flailing in attempt to free himself. One came down directly on the mask, heavily. It must have done some damage, because he was released, crumpling to the ground and leaning against the crates. 

"Always were brash Reyes, You should know better then to think you could just walk in here and kill me!" He growled, a hand moving to his face. It came back bloody, he could feel it trickling down his neck and building on the suit line. He made to stand, something red flashed in front of him and he was thrown back into the mountain of crates. Heavy and cold, the mercenary perched on his chest with a growl. Hands clamped down around his throat, a choked cry rose up as he writhed underneath him. 

"And you were always an idiot to think you could beat me!" Talons, sharp as diamonds cut the throat of the shirt to ribbons, leaving behind angry, bloody lines. Another blind swing, he cursed himself for the inability to fix his visor. He lashed out with his legs and fists, making little headway as he hands around his neck pressed down harder and harder. What little vision he did have was fading quickly, everything becoming nothing as he fought to breath. 

Unable to speak, he clawed at his hands. Cruel red eyes glared down at him, almost glowing in the low light. One hand slid off his throat, the other pressed down harder. He let out a choked noise, eyes bulging as he attempted to pry the fingers free. The hand returned, bearing one of the guns that'd shattered his visor. The weapon pressed up under his chin, tilting his head at an almost painful angle. 

"This is how it should have been." That voice, just like it had been all those years ago. He honest to god whimpered, whether it was from fear or memories he didn't know. A sick laugh rolled off the man overhead, the sound of teeth clicking as he worked his jaws. "Waited a damn long time for this, to finally get back at you for what you did. Revenge is damn well sweet."

"I-Is it?" He managed to choke out, a hand trying to pull the gun away. Again with the laugh, he could feel icy breath on his face, felt the probing tendrils that forced their way into his mouth and down his throat. He choked, trying to force the inky appendages out of him. They coiled inside of him, spreading as the finger on the trigger twitched. 

"Yes." A sickeningly loud crack, the action of the gun instantly slamming the next shell into place with a quiet click. Blood sprayed, a spray that coated his mask and gauntlets. Morrison's eyes rolled back into his head, body going limp under the mercenary's. The fingers slid off his wrist, hands dropping to the ground with dual thumps. His head lolled to the side, head nearly severed from from his neck. A faint gurgle rose up, blood bubbling and running downs the side of his neck. It puddled and spread under him, haloing the white hair and soaking into it. Blood still trickled down his cheeks, eyes wide as the light faded. A soft whisper of breath as he lungs compressed one last time and then seized to move. 

He stood up, lips curled into a snarl as he glared down at the body. Why was his hand shaking? Gun twitching as he lifted the blood coated item to eye level. His eyes shot to the left, looking past it and back to the body. Why was his hand shaking? He dropped the weapon, faintly hearing it clatter to the cement floor amongst the sudden white noise. He took a step back, disgust rising in him as he stared. 

What had he done, eyes widening as bile rose in his throat. He twisted to the side, looking away from the body as he began to drive heave, stomach rolling and twisting as he choked on what wasn't there. He rarely ate, so what little did come up was stomach acids. After what felt like an eternity of retching and choking, he wiped a shaky hand over his lips. It only served to smear blood over them, eyes widening as another wave of sickness rose up. He retched for another good few minutes before using the leather of his coat to wipe off the bloody remains and black acids. 

He moved slowly, walking as though he were lethargic. He refused to look at the mess he'd made, easily able to see what he'd done even in the dark. But he didn't look where he was going, boot crushing the metal frame of the visor as he slunk away from the scene. 

Barely a few hours later, the news was a god damn rave. The infamous terror Soldier 76 found slaughtered in an apparent hide out, visor shattered, throat and face torn up as well as the apparent death wound and murder weapon. Gruesome photos were shared and it was brought to the attentions of many that this man had once been Jack Morrison and the suspicions have been correct. Now it was time to let sleeping dogs lay. 

Morrison was buried where he should have been, a shadow watched from the distance. It never did come to the grave, it vanished long after everyone else.


	2. Who are you?

**_'And who are you?' The proud lord said. 'That I must bow so low?'_ **

The black figure stood tall, towering over the soldier's own hunched one as it held it's bleeding stomach. A hand gripped it's throat and a thumb, long and sharp pressed into the underside of it's chin. Death forced it to look up into that bright white mask.

**_'Only a cat of a different coat, that's all the truth that I know.'_ **

Silence beset them, broken only by the soldier's rasping breath as it kneeled before death himself. The soldier's lips worked, fishing for words to spit at it's assailants face. Nothing came to bare and it's face contorted beyond that of pain, confusion muddling and blending the mix as the white mask cocked slightly to the side.

'In a coat of gold or a coat of red, a lion still has claws.'

Those silver talons flexed against it's throat, a clear show of power. The hand moved, talons cupped the soldier's cheek and it flinched. Then it leaned into the touch. It's body shifted forwards, forehead pressing softly against an armored stomach.

Death knelt before the soldier, using silver a taloned hand to move it's head, letting the forehead rest against the mask's now.

_"Just get it over with."_

**_'And mine are long and sharp my lord, as long and as sharp as yours.'_ **

Death was silent for a moment, seemingly ignoring the dying soldier's demands. Then he spoke, soft and hoarse.

_"This is how it should have been."_

Talon's bit into the Soldier's cheeks, a gun barrel pressed into it's stomach. It leaned against it, hands gripping death's arms. An ear splitting crack split the air, three more followed suit. The weapon spent as it was cast aside with a soft clack.

**_'And so he spoke and so he spoke, that lord of Castamere.'_ **

A soft groan, the Soldier listed to port. Death held it, listening to the soft sound of it's last breath as he lowered the corpse to the ground. The Soldier was no more, just a corpse among the others. Death was gentle as he twined the soul around his fingers like rope. He could not bring himself to stomach it like all the others.

And so Death called upon an Angel, her light bathing the dark courtyard. He demanded she commend the soul he held, passing it into her caring, gentle hands.

"Do not play god, Angel, he has suffered enough and I will not see him live again." She nodded and rose, vanishing to the heavens once more. Her light fled the court yard, chased off by his ravenous shadows as he placed a gentle hand on the corpses ice cold cheek.

"May you find peace where others can not, you have earned it." Voice barely more than a whisper as the body of a once imposing Soldier looked so frail and breakable beneath his taloned fingers. He closed his red eyes as the body turned to ash and wind snapped through the yard.

**_'And now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear.'_ **

Death lifted himself from the ground, tilting that bright white mask to the clouded sky as rain began to fall. It did not sheet nor pelt from the heavens. A soft, gentle patter that drummed off his mask and shoulders.

He allowed it to soak him to his discolored, marked flesh before he allowed himself to conjoin with the shadows. The court yard was left devoid of movement save the gentle swinging and dipping of the grass in the rain and wind.

Had the Soldier been present it would have smiled at Death and remarked on how it reminded it of the fields in Indiana. Of the home before this one. Of the quite, desolate base in the middle of nowhere. How Death would have laughed at it's comment and said.

_"LA wasn't known for it's rolling fields, but it's rolling streets."_

He and the Soldier would laugh at that, quite of soft as they thought of home. How they could smile because of the fond memories that would wash over them like warm bath water. How they would relax into them and just remember.

**_'Yes, now the rains weep o're his hall and not a soul to hear.'_ **


	3. Long time no see

Nobody knew which way it was going to go when they finally put Reyes and Jack in the same room. Angela believed it would be a good idea to get them to at least recognize each other and the best way to do that was to stick them together and hope for the best. So that's exactly what they did. Angela shoved a faintly protesting Reyes into the room and then walked back out, Jack had his back to him, his gun down range as he fired on the practice targets.

So Reyes waited. He leaned against one of the crates and crossed his arms over his chest, watching as he stuck each target with startling accuracy. When Jack finally ran out of practice rounds, he set the rifle down as he patted his leg in search of a new clip. To garner his attention, Reyes let out a sharp noise of indignation, stepping away from the crate and crossing his arms over his chest. Jack whipped around, his sidearm in hand as he leveled it on his chest. 

Reyes froze, lifting his hands up and spreading his fingers wide to show he had nothing in them. The gun lowered, and after a few moment of scrutinizing, he slid it back into the holster. He was still tense, face and expression hidden behind his muzzle like mask. Silence hung in the air as the glared each other down, daring the other to make the first move, to speak the first word. Finally Jack spoke, loud and hoarse in the empty room. 

"What do you want Reaper?" He muttered, shifting as he glared at him. Both of them took note of the people gathered in the doorways and the windows, not doubt placing bets on who would throw the first punch. Reyes's hands dropped back to his side as he sighed, shaking his head. 

"Not even going to use my name Jack?" He asked, crossing his arms over his chest now and cocking his head to the side like an owl. Jack snorted, eyes likely narrowed behind his visor. 

"All these years and you're still an asshole, Gabriel." He ground out, fingers twitching as he fought off the urge to ball them up. "Now what do you want." Reaper huffed, letting his neck straighten. 

"Old habits die hard, you know that better than anyone Jack. And I'm just here to talk. Angela said it would be 'good' for the both of us to talk to each other." He answered tightly, watching as Jack shifted again and looked away for a moment. 

"Of course she did. She never could stand it when we argued." He grunted, letting his head swing back to look at Gabriel again. Reyes let out a metallic chuckle, shaking his head lightly. 

"She always had everyone's best interests at heart didn't she." Reyes muttered, looking down at his feet now. His voice taking a darker tone as he practically hissed the words. Jack cocked his head,a brow arching over the rim of his visor in a silent question. Reyes lifted his head and snorted, gesturing to himself. "I'm only alive because she brought me back, and turned me into..." He trailed off, searching for the right words. "Whatever the fuck I am now." Jack drew his head back at that, clearly confused. 

"What do you mean 'made you into what you are'?" He asked, earning a dark, echoing chuckle. Reyes shook his head again, looking away and drawing in a breath he didn't actually need. 

"I'm a monster Jack, in a constant state of solidifying and evaporating into a black mist. I'm technically not even alive, I don't have to breath, eat or drink unless I chose to. But I do have to consume souls to keep from being in an eternal endless agony." He grumbled, watching as Jack flinched. 

"Jesus, Gabriel I..." He stopped for a moment. "I didn't know." He murmured, voice softening. Reyes scoffed, looking away shifting. 

"Doesn't matter, it still happened so either way i'm still fucked in the end." He ground out, fighting to keep his voice level. Jack huffed and took a step forwards, Reyes's head snapping back to eye him. "It's not like I didn't deserve it." He muttered harshly under his breath, Jack's own lungs seizing up and his heart squeezing. 

He finally let his hands fist up at his sides, striding across the space between them until he stood but a foot away, staring into the endlessness of his mask's eye spaces. He took note of the people around them shifting and twitching in anticipation, awaiting the inevitable explosion of twenty years in hell. 

"Take it off." He muttered, voice having stiffened back up. Reyes tilted his head in question and Jack let out a low grumble. "The mask. I want to know for sure it's you." He answered and Reyes let his arms drop away to his sides. 

"It's not a pretty sight Jack, i'm not who I used to be at all." He murmured, Jack shrugging as he eyed him. 

"Just do it." He muttered, and without another question, Reyes lifted a massive hand. He used a finger to knock back the hood, smoke curling and wisping away from underneath the mask. He reached behind his head, using a talon to flick the clasp open and allowed the mask to drop away into his waiting hand. He set it aside on the nearest crate before making eye contact with Jack again. 

Jack stared right into those ghostly red eyes, looking away from them only long enough to take the rest of his face in. Even being covered in sickly pale patches of skin, most of it was still the same, dark brown he'd gotten so used to all those years ago. He still had that goatee, scars still crisscrossed his face, bisecting the skin with soft, pinkish brown swatches of skin. 

"it's not that bad, I've seen far worse." Jack murmured, earning a more breathy chuckle. Smoke curled from Reyes lips when he parted them. 

"You always did you damnedest to see the good in everything Jack, nice to see that hasn't changed." Reyes grumbled, earning a chuckle in return. "Now it's your turn Jack. I showed mine, you show yours." Jack sighed, then nodded. Without argument, he undocked the mask, setting it down on the crate next to Reyes's. He watched red eyes dart about, taking in his scarred, age worn face. 

"Fuck your old." Reyes grunted, earning a groan from Jack. 

"Yea, yea fuck you." Jack quipped in return, a tense silence falling. Everyone around them is ridged, just waiting for one to lash out at the other when Jack starts to move. But instead of winding back for a punch, he's suddenly closing the gap between himself and Gabriel. Then his arms are encircling him, dragging them together and holding on tightly. 

Jack's nearly shaking, tiny shivers shooting over him as his emotions roiled up and he clenched his teeth as he let his eyes snap shut. "I thought you'd died you jerk." He growled, earning a harsh snort from from Reyes as the man's arms wrapped around him. 

"I thought you were to Jackass." He huffed, and Jack squeezed him gently. 

"I should be mad at you, dammit I am mad but, not mad enough. I should be beating the piss out of you." Jack grunted, burying his face into Gabriel's neck, breathing now stuttery as he held onto him like a lifeline. 

"but here you are, hugging me like some pansy old man." Reyes quipped, Jack chuckling softly. 

"Fuck you." He fired back, relaxing farther when one of Gabriel's hands pressed against the back of his head. Claws stroked gently over his scalp sending a shiver down his spine as he inhaled Gabriel's scent. A mixture of death and ozone. Fiery and cold all at once. 

"Yeah, yeah." Gabriel muttered as he pressed his face into Jack's hair, sighing softly. 

In the end, Tracer was the one collecting the money.


	4. Angry Fools

"Morrison!" The pure, unadulterated rage that permeated Gabriel's voice had the blonde spinning on his heels to face him. He barely ducked the punch aimed for his jaw, yelping audibly as he pivoted away a few steps. 

"Gabriel! What the hell is wrong with you?!" He growled, eyes wide and swirling with confusion. Gabriel's face twisted into a sneer, a bitter laugh spat out as he positively seethed with rage. 

"Don't give me that 'deer in the fucking head lights' look you goddamn disgrace!" He snarled, boot scuffing the floor as he hunkered low. He resembled a bull about to charge, eyes narrowing darkly. Jack didn't have time to move when he finally bolted forwards, shoulders slamming into his stomach and throwing him down. All the air he had was gone in a soft whoosh, eyes blowing wide as he choked on nothing. He couldn't avoid the first punch, fist connecting with his lips and slamming his head back against the floor. 

A pained shout shot from him, eyes snapping shut as he twisted away from the next attack. He winced when he heard his friend's knuckles breaking against the floor, the sound of stone cracking and bone snapping. But his recovery time was impressive, yanking his fist back and hissing. It was clearly broken, fingers crushed into his palm and knuckles torn open. Jack was fairly certain the floor had a sizable dent in it, watching as those golden brown eyes glanced away for merely a second to take in his damaged hand before setting his sights back on Jack. They narrowed, pupils flaring as they lit up with fury. He looked ready to bludgeon him with that broken hand. 

Suddenly his weight was lifted off, an angry shout lifting from him as Reinhardt lifted him off the ground like he weighed nothing. 

"Mein Gott! Gabriel, what has come over you?!" Jack sat up, running the back of his hand over his mouth. It came back bloody and all he could was stare. Gabriel didn't speak a word, eyes locked with Jack's as he struggled against the German's hold. Jack stood up, teetering for a moment as he sucked in a breath of air. Damn Gabriel could hit. 

"What the hell Reyes?! Have you gone insane!" His split lip drew back in a snarl, eyes cold. Gabriel sneered in return, eyes boiling as he tried to lunge at him again. Reinhardt's iron grip barely restraining him. 

"Maybe a little, I still call you commander, don't I?" His lips drew back, lunging again. Reinhardt was practically red in the face from the strain of holding the super soldier back. Jack let out a growl, so that's what it was about. 

"All these damn years and you're just bringing it up now you jackass? Let the bastard go, Wilhelm, I'm ready to give him a goddamn piece of my mind." Gabriel looked thrilled now, golden brown eyes wide as Reinhardt finally dropped him. 

He landed in a perfect stance, eyes narrowing. "Gonna rip you a new asshole Morrison!" He surged forwards, feinting to the left at the last second. His boot lashed out even as he turned, the sole just narrowly missing his face. He took a step back and then charged him.

He caught Gabriel around the middle, driving him back into the nearest wall with a hefty crack. He knew he'd hit him hard, Gabriel slouching against him, winded for a split second. Then he was moving again, twisting in his grip and popping free like a snake. His good fist rose up, catching Jack under the jaw and snapping his head back. He stumbled hard, hand shooting up to cradle it for a moment. His first mistake, Gabriel didn't take the time to gloat during his fights. 

The steel plated boot caught him right across the lips, head snapping to the side with a cry. It tore a fine line across the corner of his mouth, blood springing out of the cut. He nearly toppled over, eyes wide as he held it for a moment. Felt broken, jaw slightly askew, screaming with pain when he tested it. His second mistake, thinking Gabriel would lay off him now. 

Thrown to the floor, eyes flashing up to that angry, snarling face. He almost thought he saw a flicker of horror, deep in the back of his eyes when the black tactical knife flashed free of its compartment. He didn't even cry out, not even when the blade tore a near deadly path across his cheekbone, over his nose and up past his eyebrow. Blood sprayed, bubbling up and running down into his eyes. 

He blinked, eyes wide as Gabriel's chest and shoulders heaved above him, the knife clutched in a death grip, poised to strike down into his throat. 

That was Gabriel's first mistake, the first explosive went off with a flash and a deafening crack. The light flickered and went out, walls rumbling and shaking as the power was cut. Auxiliary power cut on, alarms crowed as the both of them stood. Jack's face was covered in blood, Gabriel's was bloodless. Both of them stumbled hard when the second explosion rocked the base, the light flickered, the alarms cut and then nothing. 

Deadly silence. Most of the crowd was backing towards the doors now, eyes wide. This time screaming erupted, the explosion throwing most of them to the ground as the walls rattled and shook. Hairline fissures were forming, spreading across the walls. Ominous pops and cracks, then another explosion. This time, the walls started to crumble, people screamed as they slammed against the doors and out into the open. Gabriel and Jack stood at the center, the calm eye of the storm. 

the entire place was spinning for Jack, his face still gushing blood as his knees began to shake. The blue of his chest plate was turning red, swiping an absent finger across it as another explosion, this one closer knocked him to the ground. Gabriel was still standing next to him, recovering as Morrison watched the blade in his hand clatter to the ground. The walls were coming down now, the ceiling was splitting open. Eyes wide with horror as another explosion sent Gabriel to the floor. 

Steel screamed and cement blew apart in a hail of stone chunks. A massive chunk of the ceiling split away, landing not even a foot from them, another explosive went off. 

It was then that he realized, the floor that he was laying on had just become his deathbed. More stone rained down, the walls caved in towards them. He was barely conscious now, content to let the building crumble around him. It was better than anything the public had planned for him. A distant scream, the sound of augmented bones snapping like twigs. Tears pooled in his eyes, stone rained down around him, a steel beam crashing down next to him. 

He was just so tired, his head lolled to the side as his eyelids fluttered. Maybe he could sneak in a nap without Gabriel yelling at him to get up and get move, the bastions were so slow. Maybe just a few minutes of rest. Just a few minutes...


	5. Wake up

"Winston, we don't have time for questions, hold the objective! We're on our way alright!" He shoulders his jacket on, zipping it up with a grumble. It hadn't gone farther than obscene touches, their reunion short lived by Talons rude appearance and the teams call for help. 

"What about you Gabriel, Winston will zap your the moment he see's you!" The mercenary's head tilted up, mask hiding his impassive features. 

"I'm going to help the one hunting for Widowmaker, she'll be slaughtered on her own." 

"Lena's not useless Gabriel." The mask cocked to the side, Jack knew he was glaring. 

"I know that jackass, but Widowmakers almost as fast as she is. She's also been studying her, going over their tangle in London and the Museum for hours to ensure a bullet between speedies eyes." A quite, matter of fact tone as he tugged the hood up. "Now get to your team before Talon tears them apart, I'll join you once I've crushed the goddamn spider." He was turning away now, a new purpose to his perpetually angry steps. 

Jack's hand flashed out, dragging him backwards as he pressed his head against the cool metal of Gabriel's mask. 

"Becareful." Please.

A firm hand gripped his shoulder, Gabriel leaned into him. 

"I'm more worried about you old man, you can't turn into smoke." Don't go. Jack chuckled, but pulled away none the less. But going off the way that Gabriel chased his receding presence told him that it wasn't a joke. "I'm serious Jack, it's dangerous and Talon will kill you." Please be safe. The grip on his arm was firm, a hand closing around the back of his neck to pull him closer again. 

"I'll be alright, we have to go Gabe." I know. A gentle nudge, the hands slid away and Gabriel sighed.

"Get yourself hurt and I'm going to strangle you." I love you

"Same goes for you smokey." I love you to. Gabriel turned, leather creaking as he evaporated before Jack's very eyes. He stared for a moment, heart aching for the loss of the man he'd just found. despite that, he turned, setting a quick jog back towards the battlefield. He met up with Winston, who instantly questioned where he'd been and who he'd found. 

"Shut up, I'll explain later alright." 

"Jack, would you just tell me wh-."

"I said not now Winston!" The apes eyes widened, but none the less he turned back to the battle with a grunt. When the scream cut over the com-link, everyone froze with horror, Lena's agonized voice playing a litany in their heads. 

"I'm down! Sh-she got me in the hip.." Words drifted off, horror taking hold of her throat. "G-get back!" A heavy voice flitted over the link, Jack stiffened. 

"Put those away, I'm trying to help you!" 

"Help me! You w-work for them !" A snarl and a terrified squeak. 

"I'm on your side, now put those stupid things away and let me help you!" 

Jack finally broke in, finger against the side of his visor. 

"Listen to him Lena, he's not going to hurt you." 

"Wh-what? Jack it's Reaper if you haven't guessed." She sounded utterly confused, probably still glaring up into those lifeless eye holes. 

"I know who it is!" A litany of confused noises from the other agents, Winston glaring at him openly. "Now listen to me, if you don't let him help you, Widowmaker is going to put another bullet in you, and this time she won't miss!" She stuttered for a moment, attempting to speak before Jack pushed on. "Don't argue with me dammit! Let him help you!" She gave a defeated sigh, he heard the clatter of a pulse pistol. 

"H-heY! Hands off spooky!" A loud grumble, then a shriek. Smoke puddled in between Jack and Winston, Gabriel building himself from the ground up with Lena tucked safely in his arms. She was shaking, face buried against his armored chest and hands curled in the leather of his Jacket. Immediately she was pushed into Jack's arms, gentle talons prying her fingers off his coat. The instant they touched his coat, they clutched on, Gabriel backing away. 

"Where are you going!" He shouted, a glance wasn't even passed his way. 

"I've got a bug to squash." The growl rolled off his tongue, body degrading once again as he vanished from sight. 

"Traitre!" Widowmakers angered hiss over a public channel, Gabriel's snarl as he hunted for her. 

"I was never a traitor, I was a mercenary who found better pay!" He had her on the run, Jack watched from the shelter of the nearby warehouse. He still cradled Lena, watching as the purple streak shot into the open. Her rifle was pointed up, he watched a half formed Gabriel plunging off the roof after her. 

No!

There was a crack, widowmaker recoiled and then spun, her grappling hook catching the far wall of a building as she fled the sight. Without enough time to dissolve, the bullet snapped his head to the side, the mask split away, and his body reformed. He hit the ground with a dull thump. 

"GABRIEL!" He almost dropped Lena, managing to set her aside as gently as he could before throwing himself to his feet. "NO, GOD PLEASE NO!" He shoot out into the open, Winston and Lucio calling for him to wait. He dropped hard, his knees and back would pay for it in the morning. 

He didn't even feel it. 

"NonononO!" He swung himself over him, settling over top of him as he fisted his hands into his jacket. "Wake up god dammit!" Black wove across his skin, splitting off in waves from the bullet wound in his forehead. Black ichor puddled beneath his head, forming a dark halo underneath grey and black, matted hair. A hand came down on his shoulder, trying to pull him away. 

He lashed out, almost yelping when the steel bit into his wrist. Muddy brown eyes glanced away from his visor, widening when they settled onto Gabriel's familiar face. Jack looked away, shoulders shaking as he clawed the visor from his face. 

"Please wake up, god please wake up~"


End file.
